To Cope With
by MimiK
Summary: After series 1 - how will Edith cope with the events at the garden party
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I always wonder, why it took so much time until Edith finally talked to Sir Anthony about what happend at the garden party. I mean, the war lasted four years and there wasn't any possibility to talk before CS... Why? And how will Edith cope with her loss? Question after question. I try the find answers._

_In this story I will use some of my drabbles, but most of it will be new material._

_Last, but not least: This story is especially for Loveedith and Duchess. (Since you haven't an account, I can't answer you by PM. So, thank you for your lovely reviews!)_

* * *

**To Cope With**

He just walked away.

Her eyes followed him. She was going to cry "No. Stay!", but she remained silenced.

Edith had been sure that she would receive Sir Anthony's proposal this afternoon. It was the perfect day for it. A sunny day, in the garden with all their guests around… But now he went away without any explanation.

Her heart seemed to stop beating. The world around began to spin. She felt losing her footing.

"You can't be leaving yet" she whispered again. In the next moment she spotted the exultant expression on Mary's face.

XXX

Edith was still haunted by this at the late evening. Lying in her bed with her head pressed into her pillow she cried desperately about what had happened, about what she had lost.

It had been supposed that Sir Anthony would propose this very afternoon. She had dreamt about this for weeks. The garden party had seemed to be the ultimate occasion with her finally for once in centre of attention. But he hadn't proposed. He hadn't spared any further word for her.

Edith hid her head deeper in the pillow. No one should hear her crying. Not, that anyone would notice how low she felt. Everyone was so full with thoughts about this war. Everyone seemed to worry.

War. What would this mean? Would there be fighting near by? Actually she had no idea how this war would effect her or her family. Germany was so far away. Of course, she read a lot about the current situation, about the sabre-rattling on the continent. She wasn't political like Sybil, but she was interested.

She turned over, lying on her back now, thinking. Since the assassination on the Austrian Archduke and his wife in June the world had turn around. Every nation seemed to be suspicious against its neighbours. Alliances were formed and claims were made.

Until now all this hadn't any effect on the Life at Downton. They did what they always did, lived their lives, made calls and dressed for dinner.

The day had been sunny and the night still hinted some of the warmth of daylight hours. Edith spotted the moon shining bright outside. She left her bed, drew the curtains and opened the window.

The peaceful silence outside let her wonder about the greatness of nature, which wasn't effected by the human's daily problems anyway. She leaned at the window frame. Her thoughts travelled far away. She tried to remember how it had been with her father away to war, but she had been too young at this time for more than deeply missing him.

Nevertheless there had been talk about a new war for several months. Edith found it hard to understand, why someone decided to call out a war against its neighbours. Kaiser Bill must have become completely mad.

_Kaiser Bill_, she thought smiling, _it's how Sir Anthony use to call the German emperor_. She had to ask him about his opinion on all this.

Her smile froze, when she recognized that her thoughts had travelled back to Sir Anthony again, and immediately tears flowed down her cheeks again. She closed the window and returned to her bed.

It was odd that thoughts about the war had distracted her from bemoaning her lot. She didn't know yet, what had happened, what had changed Sir Anthony's mind – apart from Mary's participation in this. Edith was sure about such an involvement, but it was obvious that Mary wouldn't currently tell her, what she had done or said. After Cousin Matthew had escaped once more, her sister was busy with her own things now.

The only way to find out was to talk to Sir Anthony and that was what Edith would do the next day.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: I proudly present chapter 2. Thank you for reading, for the following and the reviews!_

_Duchess: Thank you for the further encouragement! I'd love to write some fanfiction about Edith and Sir Anthony after their wedding, but I want to wait for the things, which will happen in series 3. Whatever it will be... (in worst case I'll write some AU)._

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Edith was the first of her family entering the dining room for breakfast. Not even her father was there. She wasn't sad about this, because she was still thinking about finding excuses for leaving the house as soon as possible.

The last night, of which she had spent most awake and considering, had finally ended in an uncomfortable sleep. Edith felt shattered. She was tired, but she was clear in her the decision. After the breakfast she would try to speak to Sir Anthony. She had to know what had changed his mind so sudden.

Lady Cora was the first one, who finally appeared. She looked tired. Edith presumed that her parents had talked the whole night about the upcoming events.

"Good morning, Edith," the Countess said and kissed her daughter's forehead. "As good as this morning can be."

"Good morning, Mama," Edith replied. She tried a smile. Her mother was thinking about the war only. She hadn't noticed Edith's sorrow, not a little bit. Her second daughter's prospects were – of course - of secondary importance only. But…

Edith looked at her mother and felt that she wasn't fairly to her. Lady Cora looked pale. She had to cope with so many things right now. There were the loss of her baby, the trouble with Matthew being or not being the heir and Mary marrying or not marrying him, the Pamuk affair and now probably the fear that her husband had to go o war. Yes, her mother was worrying about a basket full of things, but nevertheless Edith wished Lady Cora would care a just little bit about or even noticed her misery.

Being the brave daughter she had had always been, Edith tried to converse. "Do you think…," she started shyly. "Do you think that Papa will be called up again?"

Cora looked over the table to her daughter. Edith had just expressed her own misgivings. "I don't know," she answered. "I hope he'll stay here with us. Thinking of his age we might be lucky."

Edith sighed. "In my view… I'm afraid, he wants to go and fight."

_That's what I'm afraid of, too_, Lady Cora thought, when she answered Edith's words with a serious glance.

"Who wants to go and fight?" Mary asked. She was just entering the room and caught Edith's last sentence.

"Papa," her sister replied.

Mary rolled her eyes. "Of course, he wants to go to the continent. He's an officer. It is his duty."

Her mother shook her head. "You of all of our daughters should remember how it was with her father away in the war; with him far away and for us not knowing, what would happen to him. For me there is nothing glorious and shining in a war. People will be hurt or even worst they will die. There will be people known to us, who will suffer such a destiny, and for God's sake I don't your father being one of them. So, please talk of duty in this context."

Despite her mother's stony face Mary wasn't prepared to give up on this matter. "The Germans forced us into this war and it's our duty to fight them," she retorted. "Britain and its officers have got a long and successful military tradition. But, well, tradition has always been something Americans will still have to learn."

Edith started to hate herself for initiating this topic and she hated Mary for capturing it. It ended as it had always done with Mary in the centre of attention and herself suffering quietly.

Meanwhile Lady Cora hadn't finished with her eldest daughter. She looked at Mary with anger. "So, because of this _tradition_ you want your father to risk…" She stopped, because her husband entered the room.

"Good morning," Robert Crawley said. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No, not at all," Edith hurried to say. She smiled at him. Fur further distraction she told him: "I'd love to drive around a bit this morning. Can I take a horse and carriage?"

Lord Grantham, still a bit suspicious about the atmosphere in the room, nodded. "Of, course, you can, Edith."

"The weather is really lovely," his wife agreed. She was thankful for the new topic. "Maybe we can go out for walk later today, Robert. And, Edith, please be back fur luncheon in time."

XXX

Edith lost her courage right in the middle of the way from Downton Abbey to Sir Anthony's house. Due to the fact that she did know, what Mary might have told him, she felt uncertain about what to say, how to start. What, if Mary hadn't been involved in this? What, if something she herself had said or done was the reason for his behaviour?

She stopped the carriage and thought about it for a moment. Several moments arose before her inner eye, but there was nothing uncomfortable or bad she remembered. Edith had never felt especially brave or heroic. In addition it took awhile until her interest in Sir Anthony had became more than the result of her bet with Mary. Seeing him going away yesterday's afternoon left her behind with a broken heart. She realised in this moment how much her fondness had grown, how deep the affection she felt really was.

_Is it wrong to try to get an explanation?_ Edith thought. _Is it stupid to make the attempt to put everything right?_ She was irresolute, but only for an additional minute. She knew Sir Anthony for some time now. He would listen to her clarification. If he felt only a bit of the affection like she did, he had to.

She had this still in mind, when she arrived in front of his house. Edith stopped the carriage, strengthened her self-confidence for a second and left finally the cart. Arrived at the front door she rang the bell. It took a little while until the butler opened.

"Good morning," Edith said with a polite smile. "I'd like to speak to Sir Anthony."

The butler gave a little cough. "I'm terribly sorry, Lady Edith, but Sir Anthony is not here at moment."

"Not here?" Edith asked confused. She felt like someone had poured icy water over her.

"Yes, he went to Ripon this morning to see his lawyer about some matter regarding the estate and won't be back before dinner."

"Oh." Edith fought against the increasing disappointment. Why he wasn't here? Why he preferred to see his lawyer in Ripon instead of speaking with her about what had happened? She felt tears filling her eyes and a sobbing arising in her throat.

"Is there anything else, I can do for you?" Sir Anthony's butler looked impatient.

"No." Edith shook her hat. "No, thank you."

Still fighting the tears and the sobbing she went back to the carriage. Was could be such an important _estate matter_ that Sir Anthony had to talk about it with his lawyer on the day after the afternoon he had planned to proposed. This certainly had to be an elusion. Apparently he didn't want to talk to her, to anyone.

Still deep in thoughts she drove away. Very short after she passed main gate something forced her to look back. She wasn't able to say later, what it had been, but she felt a strong appeal to do it. What Edith saw made her heart nearly stop.

Upstairs, at a window in the second floor she espied Sir Anthony's figure. He was obviously watching her leaving.


	3. Chapter 3

Edith was still devastated, when she returned home. She had cried the whole way back and now she fought very hard to stop these tears. Whatever might have happened, Sir Anthony seemed to be bitterly disappointed. Although her attempt to talk to him had failed, Edith already thought about other ways of contact. She wasn't willing to abandon their relationship, their friendship without any further words.

A letter, she would write him a letter. Maybe he didn't want to see her, but perhaps he would read what she had to say. Edith hurried upstairs to her room. There was still time left until luncheon. She could…

"There you are, Edith," Lady Cora said. "How was your excursion?"

Her daughter turned around. She was obviously not in the mood for some small talk. "Nice," she finally answered, "and the weather was perfect."

"Did you cry, girl?" her mother asked.

Edith sighted silently. She shook her head. "No, not at all," she lied. "There was a tree, which sprouted over the path. Its blooming made me sneezing and it made my eyes water…"

"Very well," Lady Cora answered. "Please fix your appearance and dress for luncheon. Your father invited Colonel Mellens from Ripon and I need your support for the pre-lunch entertainment in the library."

Cora noticed that her daughter wasn't very keen to assist her, but this guest was very important for her husband and so, the girls had to make their little contribution.

It had never been easy with three daughters, but the only son, Robert and she ever nearly had, died not so long ago.

She wondered how it might have been to bring up a boy. The things to care for would have been completely different. Cora was sure that three girls didn't cause less alarm than a boy, but he would get the opportunity to attend a proper school and this entire marriage huddle would be entirely dissimilar.

Lady Grantham sighed. _It's really time for Mary to get settled_, she thought, _and for Edith_. Things would soon become very difficult with the war upcoming. Wasn't there anything with Anthony Strallan? She had to ask Edith later.

XXX

Edith slammed the door, when she had reached her room. She didn't wanted to talk to some stranger her father had invited for luncheon. Her only desire was to write a letter to Sir Anthony asking him for the reason of his blank refusal.

She dropped her hat on her bed and followed only seconds later. There was no one she could talk to about the things she was concerned with. Always stuck at Downton, with her sisters as only companions, she never had the luxury of a close girlfriend, she could confine in. The nearest thing to this had always Patrick been. He was her childhood friend, her companion on expeditions to the forest or the village or the attic… Edith laughed softly as she thought about their adventures, but she was hit hard by the insight that she wouldn't think about Sir Anthony, if Patrick had still been with them.

The tears returned and she now cried about the both men she had lost. It seemed to be vey unfair that she had to go through this alone. In her grief about Patrick's death Sybil had been her companion, a bit at least. But there was no chance to talk with her about Sir Anthony. Sybil would barely understand why her sister cared so much about this man, any man.

Edith turned her head and looked at the world outside. The frame of the window narrowed the amount of things she was able to discover. _It's a bit like the world we live in_, she suddenly thought. She felt cornered between the conventions, her family's expectations and her own ideas of the future. When she thought of the things Sybil hade done lately, she felt a bit weak about her own life. On the other hand there were only a few things, which were worth a fight. One of these things was her fondness for Sir Anthony.

She remembered several occasions they spent time together, their rides in his car and the fun they had. These endless talks about a never-ending list of topics were entertaining and always intriguing. Edith never felt stupid, when she talked to Sir Anthony. He knew an answer to every of her questions and was permanently interested in her judgement.

Suddenly Edith felt that it was up to her, to her only, that her dreams would come true. If she wouldn't do something, nobody else would care. She realised that she would never leave Downton or her family, if she didn't take her destiny in her own hands soon. Well, however, at first she had to accompany her mother for pre-lunch entertainment of this guest, but after luncheon she would write the letter and would ask for just a little explanation.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Thank you for your reviews! I love your feedback. It motivates me. But more drama this time, I'm afraid..._

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Lord Grantham's guest proved himself as a boring, old military man, who was speaking about war and battles only. It was completely tedious to follow his tales, but Lady Cora and her daughters fought bravely against the boredom. Even Mary was in a good mood. She tried not to yawn - with little success only, but luckily the visitor didn't notice. Edith tried three or four times to ask a polite question, but her words were ignored totally. Finally, after Sybil's attempt to conduct the talk to a less violent topic, Lady Cora decided that her daughters had suffered enough and dismissed them from their duties.

"What will you do till dinner time?" Sybil asked outside the drawing room. "Will you come with me for a walk? It's so lovely outside right now."

"Yes, why not," Mary replied. "Better we'll get some fresh air away from the house, before someone will catch us again to entertain another old bore."

"Fine. And you, Edith?" Sybil tiptoed through the hall.

Edith shook her head. "No, Sybil, not today. There is a letter I'd love to finish today."

"A letter to finish today," echoed Mary. "Whom may you have to write to? Is there really someone, who is interested in things you have to say?"

Before Edith was able to find an appropriate answer, Sybil had already pulled their older sister out of the front door. But, of course, Mary couldn't resist to turn around and to send Edith one of her haughty looks. Edith answered it with a killing glance, but, in fact, she felt that she had just lost another battle.

She rushed to return to her room and closed the door in hurry. There was no need to talk to somebody right now. The only thing she now wanted to do was to write the letter she had thought about the whole luncheon.

XXX

It wasn't easy even to start the note. Which salutation would be appropriate? Should she write a formal one or was it better to express her feelings? Edith was unsure about this. Her inexpertness in such things made her feel uneasy.

She had never written a letter to a man despite formal ones like answers to invitations or irrelevant notes about an event she or family had attended. Of course, she had sent several passionate letters to Patrick, but it had always been about running away from Downton because of Mary or because of something her parents had done. Or she had written him about a guy in novel, she had fallen in love with. In fact, it had been very childish letters, but Edith had also been a child back then. Now she wasn't one anymore.

_Dear Sir Anthony_, she wrote for start. She starred at the first sheet of paper. It was a good begin, but what now.

Edith sighed. Then in a sudden she began to write down, what came in her mind. Every single thought she had had in the days past the garden party flowed out of her pencil on the paper. Everything she wanted to tell him was been written down. She couldn't stop for a second.

Finally it was done. Breathless Edith looked down at the pages, three of them, she had written. Her handwriting looked different for her. It wasn't that she had written unclear because of the hurry. It was more the feeling that another person had written these lines.

Edith started reading the letter with slightly shaking hands. She read the first page, the second and blushed. She wasn't even aware that these were her own thoughts and feelings. The blushing deepened. She gasped, when she finished reading the letter. The efforts of the last half hour exhausted her.

Her stare down at the desk tired her eyes. The unhealthy posture with the cramped sitting revealed her tension. Edith's body hurt, but her heart ached much more. She could only think of what she felt, when she was close to him, when she sat next to him in the car, when they visited each other for tea, when they spoke about books, when they joked about things nobody else would effort to think about…

_No_, she finally decided after long minutes of thinking. Under no circumstances she could send him this letter. Although these lines told everything she really and honestly felt, it wasn't possible to let him, to let anyone this know.

Edith crumpled the paper and threw it to the ground. _Dear Sir Anthony_, she started again. This time she tried to think of what her mother and especially her grandmother would had hand out as advice. She attempted to be less passionate, but more diplomatic. Deep inside her hope was that he would read about her worries and her true feelings between the lines. In the end it became a very short and formal letter, which was hiding more than it said, but it scared Edith less than the first one.

_Dear Sir Anthony, when I called your house this morning, I learnt that you had gone to Ripon. While you had left our garden party yesterday so quickly, I hope there is nothing to worry about. If your time allows it, I would like to continue our latest conversations. Yours sincerely, Edith Crawley_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Sorry for the depressing chapter yesterday. This one won't be better I'm afraid, but please keep all on reading. Thanks!_

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Edith hurried from her room downstairs just catching William, the footman, who crossed the hall. "William," she called him. "Would please post this letter for me?"

The young footman bowed. "Of course, Milady." Then he continued his way to the main door and opened it for Lady Mary and Lady Sybil, who returned from their walk.

"A letter," Mary said as she entered the house. "Is it for me?"

"No," William answered. "Lady Edith asked me to post it for her."

"Very well. Thank you, William." Mary caught a glimpse of the address written on the envelope. "Hopeless task," she murmured after reading Anthony Strallan's name.

"I beg your pardon, Milady." William looked at her questioningly.

"Nothing," Mary replied. "Thank you."

Edith had already been on her way back upstairs, but she had discovered her sister's glance at the envelope. So, she waited until Mary left the hall by climbing the stairs. "I could not avoid noticing that you'd really spent the afternoon with writing a letter," she heard her saying.

"Yes, I did."

"I wouldn't expect an answer to this," Mary told her with a poisoned smile.

The colour of Edith's cheeks changed from pale to deep red and back. She felt so angry about her sister sticking the nose in her very own business. "What do you mean?" she rapped out.

Mary smiled pleased with an arrogant attitude. "I mean, you lost our little game."

"What have you done?" Edith was beside herself with rage.

"I think,…" Mary enjoyed her sister's anger extraordinarily. "I won't tell you." She skilfully avoided Edith's hand reaching for her arm and was saved by her mother, who left the drawing room with Colonel Mellens in this moment.

"Mary, Edith, please come and say our visitor good bye," Lady Cora demanded from her daughters, when she discovered them on the stairs.

Both walk back downwards to the hall in pretended harmony. Although they both smiled politely and bandied some words with Colonel Mellens, their mother knew at once that something was going on. It worried Lady Cora, but as long as the guest was still there she hardly could obtain information.

XXX

The Countess of Grantham tried to talk to her eldest daughter between dressing and dinner. "So, what is going on between Edith and you?" she asked with a patient smile.

"Nothing," Mary replied irritated. "Or better to say: the usual things only. Mama, you know how Edith is. She blames me for everything bad that happens to her..."

"She looks so unhappy today. You do know, what is wrong, don't you?" Lady Cora sat down at Mary's bed watching her final preparations.

"It's Edith, Mama. There is always something wrong and constantly something to complain about." Mary rolled her eyes.

Her mother sighed audibly. She knew that she wouldn't receive a word about so far. Maybe Edith would be more communicative. Her daughters had always required from her to have the brass neck. From time to time it felt like becoming worse as older as they became.

XXX

The dinner was informal one. No guests, not even the Dowager Countess attended this evening. Edith loved these quiet meals. She wasn't forced to talk to someone just because of politeness. On this evening she would prefer to talk to no one.

Thank God, Sybil was chatting a lot. She told her parents about a newspaper article she read in the morning. Edith paid no attention to the details. She only hoped to stay invisible. A false hope.

"Edith, dear," her mother suddenly said, "I saw Anthony Strallan leaving our garden party early. Do you know if something was wrong?"

"No, Mama, I don't know," Edith replied. Her voice had a slightly fretful undertone. "But I've already sent Sir Anthony a letter asking, if everything is fine."

"Very well," Lady Cora answered. "Maybe he had received news regarding the war, before we all did. I think he will let you know once everything is settled."

Mary chuckled over her soup.

"Did I miss something funny?" her father asked. He had let his thoughts wander in the middle of Sybil's statement about the war bonds and was now wondering what could be so humorous about this.

"No, nothing, dear," his wife said. "I was asking about Sir Anthony. He had left the garden party early."

"And what is funny about this?" Robert Crawley looked from his wife to Mary and to Edith.

"Nothing either," Cora explained patiently.

Mary wrinkled her nose. "In my view it is really droll to see Edith clinging on a man. Even if it is completely hopeless…"

Edith felt an enormous rage rising inside her. Mary was such a … Loudly she said: "I'm not clinging on a man. I was only polite to ask a neighbour about…" She recognised her father's facial expression and stopped.

Her little sister, who had remained silent for the last minutes, decided that it was time for new topic. "Do you think that this war will be over by Christmas as it was written in the newspapers today?"

XXX

Later in the drawing room Edith was still angry about the talk regarding Sir Anthony and the defeat she had suffered against Mary. Now she stood a bit aside pretending to study a sheet of music.

Mary joined her. "I'm sure, you're still longing to know what I said to Anthony Strallan," she said quietly.

Edith looked at her with the most compassionate glance she had in her repertoire. "Au contraire," she answered, "but I'm sure, you will burst, if you don't get the opportunity to tell me." Her lips thinned out.

"I don't have to tell you," Mary returned. "I think, you will burst, if I let you wait any longer… Maybe I should wait a week or two."

"For my sake, you could wait until you blacken, but perhaps you could act once as an adult person," Edith replied tired.

"Very well." Mary smiled with her usual arrogant attitude. "I told him that you've made fun of him and that you tried to avoid a meeting because you were afraid that he would propose at the garden party."

Edith froze. The colour of her face turned into a very unnatural white. She reached for the chair standing next to her and sank onto it.

"What do you think, Edith?" Mary asked still smiling. "Will Sir Anthony answer your letter?"


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: This is the weekend of depressing chapters, I'm afraid..._

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The following night everything was tears and desperation. It was worse than in the night before because Edith had lost all hope. Again and again she remembered the expression on Sir Anthony's face when he left the garden party. She recognised it very well and now she also understood his hurry to leave.

Oh, what would he think of her?! The lies Mary had told him had to have shattered him.

Further tears dripped from Edith's cheek onto her pillow. There was nothing she could do now...

What would he think, when he read her letter written so formal and over-polite? He must get the impression that Mary was right. There couldn't be another impression than this. Even if Edith would write a second letter to explain that Mary's words were wrong, she knew that he wouldn't read it.

She couldn't write to him, she couldn't talk to him, because he wouldn't listen. Now while knowing the reason for his refusal to receive her, Edith understood his motivation. He had to be bitterly disappointed. The idea that she had only been playing tricks with him, had to be cut this decent man to the quick.

In fact, it had had been a contest between Mary and her in the beginning, but now Edith felt so deep for this man that she wasn't able to imagine only loosing his company. What should she do? He wouldn't answer her letter, that's for sure, and it was impossible to go to his estate so soon again. Edith didn't know what to do about this mess and she was busy to hide the disappointment sitting deep inside her about the fact that Sir Anthony had believed Mary's falsehood so easily. This feeling punished her terribly.

Why didn't he ask me about? A little voice whispered in her head. Why did he trust my sister, but not me? There they were; these lingering doubts. What did she feel for him? What did he really feel for her? Was it love at all? Would it be enough for a whole life besides him?

Yes, it cried inside her. She wanted to be with Sir Anthony in any way. She wanted the car rides, the hours in the library, their discussions even about silly things and – she stopped for a moment, but was then brave enough for this thought – she wanted to wake up next to him in the morning. Edith longed for the knowledge how it would be touched by him not only with his hand taking hers, but to be kissed.

It was hopeless. The only way to clear things up was to speak to Sir Anthony. Edith knew that he might believe, if she could look into his eyes while she explained. But how?

The solution came in a moment close to dawn. Outside everything was completely silent. Edith had wandered around in her room for hours and stood now in front of the open windows breathing deeply the fresh air. The church bell clang four times and Edith wondered, how clear its sound was to hear.

Suddenly... the bell, the church... _Of course_, Edith smiled. There was one way to meet Sir Anthony without offending him. He would attend the service on Sunday as the Crawleys would do and, without any doubt, there would arise an opportunity to talk to each other nearly in private.

XXX

The days passed by only very slowly. Edith tried very hard not to count the hours, the minutes. Her mother wondered a bit of her silence, because her middle daughter said even less than usually, but she blamed all to the current war talk. The girl seemed to be very concerned about the fact that her father and other men she knew had to go to the battlefield.

Lady Cora herself was very worried about this development and she begged every night in her prayer that her husband might be spared.

In meantime, Lord Grantham found his second daughter very jittery and off her guard. The girl, who usually was very careful with the books and things in the library, put books in the wrong shelf, if she even put them in one. He found one book or the other on various tables in the house.

Finally on Sunday Edith was the first of the Crawleys being up and it was not difficult to overlook that she was keen to arrive at the local church.

"In the end she will tell us that she had decided to become a nun," her father said with a low voice as they went to the car.

Lady Cora giggled gently. "I don't think so, Robert," she said. "Edith is very earnest about being married. And there is still Anthony Strallan."

"But he didn't propose at the garden party, did he?"

"No," Cora sighed. "He was supposed to, but then he left early. Oh, I hope, this war won't destroy our daughters' hope for a happy future."

Her husband nodded.

They entered the car altogether and Edith felt as the way to the church was twice as long as it used to be. Finally they arrived. Her heartbeat doubled. She felt dizzy. Ten steps only and she would see him. She blushed. What would she say to him? A good morning would the first thing obviously. But then? A lot of possible conversations were played in her head – what she would tell him, what he would answer.

At last Edith took a deep breath and entered the church door.

XXX

He didn't show up.

Sir Anthony wasn't in the church, when the Crawleys arrived, and Edith wasn't able to discover him, when they left after the service. It was hard for her not to cry out her desperation. She had put all her hopes into this Sunday morning.

"Edith, dear," her mother said worried. "You look so pale. Are you alright, my girl?"

"I'm fine, Mama," the young woman answered. "Just a little headache." With the same rush she had forced her family to church Edith now wanted to go home, to reach her room and to close the door behind her.

All her hopes to be reunited with the man she felt so dear for were destroyed at once. Was he avoiding the Sunday service because he knew that she would be there? Edith was unsure, if this idea made her feel sick more or if it was the idea that he was unwell.

What now? She had been so concentrated on the idea that they would talk after church that there was no alternative left.

XXX

"By the way," the Earl of Grantham said from behind the morning paper during breakfast on Monday. "I've heard Anthony Strallan went to the continent for fighting. I wonder why they conscripted him, but not me."

Edith choked over her tea. She hadn't heard anything of this. "When did he leave?" she asked.

"I don't know," her father replied. "Someday last week, I think."

As soon as she had found an excuse, Edith hurried to Sir Anthony's estate. The poor horse was nearly completely exhausted, but the carriage arrived its destination before the animal's breakdown.

The knock at the door was not very ladylike, but Edith longed for a confirmation. No, she hoped for a mistake. She tried to think only for Sir Anthony being in his library and inviting her for tea.

"Yes," the butler confirmed her hastily brought up question. "Sir Anthony left last Friday." He eyed up her from top to bottom

"Did he leave a message for me?" she asked despairingly.

Lady Edith looked as desperate as his employer did, when he had returned from the Crawleys' garden party, the butler recognised. "No, Mylady, I'm afraid he didn't," he therefore said as careful as he could.

_So,_ Edith thought, _Sir Anthony went away without a word, without a note._ He had gone to war and it wasn't sure, if he would ever return, and he didn't even thought about to say good-bye to her.

She was devastated by realising this.

* * *

_A/N: Well, we did all know, what would happen, didn't we? This story was written to fill a gap, not as AU. Nevertheless there will be a epilogue - a short one only (and canon), something to cheer up a bit, which I promise to publish tomorrow._


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Here is the (tiny) epilogue as promised. I decided to use their first scene from the Christmas Special, because I love their interactions in this scene so much._

_However, I hope for much more E/A screentime in the new series as well as for an happy ending. And if Mr. Fellowes won't do us this favour, we can still fill the space her with our fanfiction. ;-))_

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_Epilogue - After the war_

"What do you mean you've invited Anthony Strallan?" Edith asked her grandmother. "I thought it was just us."

Lady Violet saw the distressed expression of her granddaughter's face. "Well," she said, "you were so disappointed that he wouldn't come shooting."

Edith remembered from books she had read before the war, how it should be to meet again a long lost love interest. She couldn't say if her conflicting emotions were exactly the same than the feelings of the books' heroines, but she was flustered, when she spotted Sir Anthony leaving his car in front of her grandmother's house. All her dear feelings for him returned at once.

In the time, when they hadn't seen each other, she had learnt to drive a car, had driven a tractor and had kissed a farmer. She had cared for wounded soldiers, had been reunited with Patrick and had lost him again… So many things had happened during the war, but now with him entering the room, all this was wiped off. In this second her only desire was to rush up to him and to fling her arms around his neck.

His reluctance and the certain detachment rattled her, but Edith felt at once that he was as excited as she was. This unexpected meeting was quite a shock for both of them. They tried to make conversation, said silly, trivial things. It was frustrating, but what could they under Lady Violet's strict surveillance.

In the end, when her eyes finally met his incredible blue ones, Edith knew that there was still hope.


End file.
